


get to you

by lylikers



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Background DirkJake, F/F, Meet-Cute, author rose, except it takes place over a letter correspondence, seamstress kanaya, vague setting and time period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lylikers/pseuds/lylikers
Summary: Over the course of ten letters and a year, two unlikely acquaintances chart the dangerous waters of love, identity, and what it means to be an artist.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	get to you

**Author's Note:**

> Historians will say they were best friends!

_Miss Kanaya Maryam,_

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_I’ve known of your dresswork for a considerable amount of time. It’s astonishing to me how many times I’ve complimented your work off-handedly, seeing it adorned by friends and acquaintances, without knowing it all came from the same skilled hand. While the extent of my knowledge when it comes to your craft is embarrassingly slim, I have an eye for intricacy as a writer myself; this we seem to have in common. Your embroidery is extremely meticulous in placement and execution, your handiwork so precise it feels inhumane. I’d like to extend my deepest and most personal admiration for your work to preface the request I have for you, and it’s in your best interests to keep in mind I don’t often dole out such compliments this freely._

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_That being said, I would’ve paid a visit to you myself, but I’ve been sent on a variety of errands by a dear friend of mine, heiress to the neighboring house, and will be flitting between territories for the next fortnight or so with not nearly enough time to stop by for a full-fledged appointment. If it were not for the fact that we’ll be separated by a mountain range and multiple unforgiving rivers and falls, I would not be writing to you this far in advance._

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_In the midst of preparations for a variety of quickly approaching events, the scarcity of formal wear in my wardrobe has slipped my mind. I take to blouses and trousers much more easily than I do slim-fitting gowns and shawls and fine jewels, but I’d be a fool to disregard the latter half’s importance in a lifestyle such as that of my family’s. My brother is recently betrothed and the ceremony is a year from now, punctuating a flurry of smaller arrangements, all of which require fashion of a much higher quality than my own currently. I’d like to commission you multiple pieces, the nature of which I will disclose once I have the opportunity to meet you in person. Please have me at your earliest convenience; as long as it’s no sooner than a fortnight. I’m well aware the time and resources this order will require, and am more than willing to pay the deserving price._

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_Once again, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, though I do wish it weren’t in such a manner as this. I await your response in earnest._

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_Respectfully,_

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_Rose Lalonde_

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_Miss Rose Lalonde,_

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_I must admit to the fact that I am not written often- usually only by family, or friends, or long withstanding clients. I invite you to picture the look of pure and unadulterated shock that had painted my features oh-so-gracefully when I saw your name on the address line. Are you doing so? I can only hope._

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_Your appreciation of my work has me taken aback out of consideration for the fact that I appreciate yours just as intensely. I’ve prattled on many a time in regards to your writing, and most often my praises fall on the deaf ears of my exasperated colleagues and friends. I am deeply humbled by your compliments and am looking forward to meeting you physically._

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_On that note, my schedule is spotty for the next year. I have been doing a lot of busywork to fill neat gaps in my spare time; personal projects, the mending of close acquaintances’ work clothes, a quilt for my sister’s wedding anniversary. Needless to say, I’d be delighted to have you whenever you see fit. I feel as if you’ve overestimated my talent, renown, and overall unavailability by quite a large margin, for I work quietly._

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_Please pass along my warmest regards to your brother. I’m gratified by your entreaty._

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_Respectfully,_

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_Kanaya Maryam_

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_P.S. You speak of the heiress to our neighboring house- I know Jade very well. It seems we may have more in common than nuanced tastes._

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_Miss Kanaya Maryam,_

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_Firstly, I’ll have you know I absolutely pictured your shock. Unfortunately, I lack the knowledge of what you look like, as much as I wish I didn’t, so I was regrettably forced to interact with the most detested facet of my psyche- the imagination. I lowered myself onto a velvet chaise lounge, brushing my thumb over the manilla creamed parchment, and had myself a low and hearty chuckle as I neatly put together this mental image. Splotches of red bloomed across my face, for a log in the pit had just caught and blades of heat cut through the heavy smell of soot and ash- as a new flame, deeper and infinitely more intense, lit itself inside of me._

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_(In reality, it was well past midnight and I was hunched over the guest room’s desk reading by candlelight. An accidental flourish of my arm picking up a paper knocked a whole neglected stack onto the floor, and my exhaustion convinced me to finish reading your letter sitting on the freezing hardwood, surrounded by loose documents. The hearty chuckle, however, was not an extrapolation of events. Its realness attribute transcends sarcasm.)_

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_By the time this letter reaches you, my excursion will probably be coming to a close, and you should expect me within the day or so. I do love Jade, but as you’re probably well aware, her workload is not one others are able to bear easily without taking time to do so. She’s extremely ambitious and straightforward; I was envious of those traits when I was younger and more stupid, but I’ve grown to admire them for the hard work and dedication they embody. Even so, I can’t help but feel like she could bear to take a break once in a while, so I try to offer help where I can- even if it means having to set aside time and ink writing to seamstresses, being forced out of my quarters for far more sunshine than I tend to subject myself to on my own accord, and getting my hands dirty once in a while._

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_You discredit yourself, Kanaya. The life of an artist is one under constant scrutiny by the masses, even when their name and identity is rarely attached to what they are known best for, and I assure you my assumptions were made because I believe the world deserves to know a person like you, not because your art deserves to be consumed. Expertise and dexterity may be representative of time and effort, but your heart and soul can be reflected in the drape of linen, in the patches of work clothes, in the threading of a gifted quilt. Do not live focused on the parts of you draped in weighted shadow, but instead take a moment every once in a while to illuminate the parts of you that pull at your subconscious and integrate themselves into what you create. I promise you, the experience is liberating._

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_The intrigue of meeting you and the relief of getting to check another errand off of my list are the only things keeping me from groaning at the thought of my journey home. Nevermind, actually, I groaned anyway._

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_Respectfully,_

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_Rose Lalonde_

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_Rose,_

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_I apologize if a response is something inconveniencing for some reason or another; even though we made an agreement after our first meeting last night to reconvene personally at a later date, and cycled through enough conversation to make my head spin, something in me felt your previous letter needed replying to. Maybe that sentiment isn’t shared, but here I sit, my wrist drafting script as if these compulsions belong to it and it alone. So take this as a more formal extension of gratitude for yesterday- though I suppose by the time you read this, yesterday will have droned on into a week or two. Now that I think about it, it was a silly waste of ink pointing that out, and an even sillier one taking the time to write a line reprimanding myself for doing so. If anyone were to keep abreast of the average speedliness of the post or the importance of ink preservation, it’d be you._

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_Friendly excursions are concepts relatively foreign to me; most of my friends and colleagues share my penchant for introversion, and as a result, we spend most of our time together working together over light conversation in the comfort of our own homes. I was rather shocked when you asked if I’d like to eat out, after the sky had pitched and we discussed our business and you had already overstayed your intended welcome by hours. But getting out and about was rejuvenating. I could use something like that, every once in a while, especially if it means I get to learn more about you._

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_If I remember correctly, by the time you receive this you should have more details as to what the wedding will be like. I’d love to hear them if you do feel inclined to share; your brother and his fiance seem like quite the pair of characters, and I’ve always liked weddings in a general sense. Have you?_

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_Respectfully,_

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_Kanaya Maryam_

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_Kanaya,_

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_I am not inconvenienced in the slightest. We’re two busy people; who knows when we’ll be able to reconcile? Usually I’m not one for public places either, but it’s my belief that a lot can be said about how an individual behaves over a plate of hot food. That night stands a monolith of memory in my mind, sickly sweet and golden browned, clouded by just the right amount of alcohol to remain distinguished. Next time can be spent holed up in one of our abodes, reading by fireside, for I’m sure by the end of this wedding ordeal I’ll be well and done with social interaction._

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_Traveling along that vein of conversation, the preparations are going swimmingly. Dirk isn’t one for public extravagance in any way, shape, or form, but he is one for his future husband. Hell if those two aren’t already married in every way but legally. Possibly the least debated facet of the ceremony was the venue, a gorgeous beach off the coast of the county, one I’ve resigned myself to many a time while sourcing inspiration for some of my writing. The wind rarely angles itself towards the water in a way that will send brine and foam flying in angry bouts, so the waves always pulse rhythmically, oddly soothing, sending ripples of respite to lap at my psyche. A grotto of sorts looms over the stretch of beach the wedding will be officiated on, and the shadow it drapes provides a welcome alleviation from the sun. I brought Dirk there years ago, and I can only assume it resonated with him the same way it did me._

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_You asked how I feel about weddings myself, and I’ve resigned myself to thinking about the question for a long couple of moments before deciding it was hard to answer. They’re fun to attend, and fun to prepare (though that might just be the structure-hungry freak of nature living inside me), but conceptually, I draw a blank. A visceral declaration of eternal love is romantic, sure. But what discerns it from other gestures? Time, effort, maybe, but not love. I’ve never understood what sets apart the love living in an epic, promise-sealing kiss from the love living in the subtle integration of a person into your life and heart._

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_I’ve been writing, lately, something different from my older works, and this is a topic I’ve struggled with quite a bit. If you have a perspective you’d like to share, I’ll accept it with open arms._

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_Warm regards,_

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_Rose_

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_Rose,_

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_The relentless heat of early autumn is finally starting to subside into something more tolerable, so I’ve begun to do a lot less moping and a lot more working. Enclosed are some sketches of the outfits you’ve commissioned, ripped straight from my journal. I’ve begun to work on the bodices for each, and I’ll continue to disclose my progress in my future letters._

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_Love is a topic I don’t think I’ve ever dwelled on, or at least not to the extent you seem to dwell on things. I’m not very experienced in courtship, and I’ve never been one to see marriage as an accomplishment you’re required to reach in order to attain true contentment. Even so, I’ll make an attempt to share my sentiments. Imagine a book. The book revolves around two individuals and their relationship over the course of their lives. The readers it draws in tend to be hopeless romantics and young people enthralled by those sweet kinds of stories, but it isn’t cheap or poorly written in any respect. One reader might cherish the buildup- the interpersonal aspects of the story, the brush of a shoulder, the racing thoughts. The little, simple things that pile up to the story’s apex. Another might read for the payoff- the climactic kiss, the declaration of love, the wedding. The ultimate reward, the epicenter of what all those little things built up to. The same can be said for how people enjoy romance in real time, or at least I think it can. Publicization and extravagance can be one person’s covet, while private intimacy could be another’s._

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_Unfortunately, I don’t share your ability to wax poetic, to reach into my own heart and expose its rawest contents, so I broached the topic through a metaphor. Your writing has always been so personal and immersive, even when the author was unbeknownst to me, in a way that can resonate with any human even if the emotions being portrayed aren’t their own. In spite of this, I hope I was of assistance, and I look forward to whatever you’re writing. Please don’t forget the advice you gave me; it’s helped me beyond my own realm of understanding._

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_Tea, a week from Sunday?_

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_Warmer regards,_

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_Kanaya_

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_Kanaya,_

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_Tea was lovely. I ask you kindly to send a couple of bags of your blend along with your next letter, even though more often I take to coffee._

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_Your analogy was extremely helpful, and I took note of it with excessive enthusiasm. Which, in hindsight, is a bit odd. Writing has always been something near and dear to my heart; a means to an end emotionally, a mechanism used to cope subconsciously with that which you can’t understand, a magnificent art form with your being woven into the very fabric of its creation. Finishing what I’ve started has always been a non-negotiable part of creation for me, as well as accepting little to no input from others as to preserve its authenticity in the process. Even Dirk, who shares my penchant for philosophical and convoluted conversations that skip from topic to topic until they end up going nowhere, is someone who I tend to disagree with when it comes to the altercation of my works. In spite of this, your perspective feels important. Though it doesn’t belong to me, it might as well be part of me, an integral facet of my own beliefs and values._

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_Today the interconnection looping itself into my tight inner circle revealed another truth; Jake is a cousin of Jade’s. He and I took lunch together the other day, which isn’t something I would’ve suggested if it weren’t for his vehement insistence we get to know each other. In just over the course of an hour or two, my understanding of him morphed dramatically from a high-strung loquacious escapist to an extremely insightful and mentally stimulating high-strung loquacious escapist. Now that I think about it, Jake and Jade might as well be twins, both with an infinite supply of outrageous stories and the amount of energy required to tell them all in one sitting. They’re a wild contrast to my own social approaches, and I can only truly handle them in doses, but family works in wild ways._

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_If it wouldn’t crowd your schedule too overwhelmingly, I’d like to make Sunday tea with you routine. Seeing your face more often would be a welcome reprieve from the work I’ve been doing lately._

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_Warmest regards,_

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_Rose_

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_Rose,_

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_I know it has been a while since your last communication, and I’ve had plenty of opportunities to make this announcement personally, but it felt right to put it in a letter. I’m proud to let you know that your dress for the wedding is extremely close to finish. I need to hem the skirt and sew on a few more bits of embellishment, but I was able to complete the project with haste and surprising amounts of satisfaction. A mockup of the nightclothes lays waiting on my dress form, and the collection of tops will be quick and easy projects, as well as ones not restricted by a time limit._

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_It may seem peculiar to continue our correspondence while we see each other so often, but the excitement that kindles within me when I’m met with a block of your beautiful handwriting is unmatched. It’s an intense and compelling kind of emotion, not all that different from the one I feel when you step into my shop, but contrasting all the same. Jade has always been someone I was close to, someone I’ve known since childhood, but as her responsibilities begin to pile and I immerse myself deeper in my own work we’ve grown quite distant. It’s extremely comforting to have a crutch, a constant, a shoulder to lean on, for I was afraid I had lost the ability to feel that way about anyone, for a while._

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_Winter is beginning to creep through floorboards and cracks between the glass and window sill, and I’m met yet again with a season too extreme for my tastes. I wish we could have one or the other; intense heat that milds in the winter months, or intense cold that milds in the summer months. But alas, I cannot have my cake and eat it too. This also means the wedding is just around the corner, and although I won’t be attending, I’m thrilled nonetheless. I expect an extremely thorough detailing of the ceremony, and an even more thorough detailing of the entailing shenanigans._

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_I can’t wait to deliver the dress to you, as I feel as if it’s a culmination of everything you’ve taught me about creation. It’s only fitting that you’re the one to wear it._

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_Love,_

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_Kanaya_

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_Kanaya,_

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_What if you could attend the wedding, though?_

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_As fanciful as the affair is going to be, I doubt anyone would mind if you accompanied me. The grooms are two extremely lenient people, and I am one force of nature when it comes to persuasion (insistence?). We once wrote about our aversion to public settings, and though I’m completely content getting you alone as often as I do, maybe it’s about time for us to get out again._

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_The dress is gorgeous. I have it laid out nice and flat on a desk worn from disuse, and casting a quick glance in its general direction is oftentimes enough to fuel another bout of inspiration as I work. Words cannot convey the amount of personality and grace it encompasses, a master craft all for me. It’s an honor to be your model, your muse, and I hope you know I would do it again in a heartbeat. A year ago, I wrote a letter to a recluse, someone insecure and doubtful, as a person shoving similar flaws into the depths of my essence. Today, I wake up as if my bonds have been cut and I am finally free from the self destructive paradox of intellect and question I had confined myself to. To have a physical manifestation of that transformation is something beyond meaningful to me._

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_I ended up abandoning the writing piece I’ve referenced in my earlier letters. I slaved day and night over transcribing a worrisome tangle of concepts and feelings I was experiencing, until I decided some things were better left vague and unconstricted emotions. It was a hard decision to make, but as much stock as I hold in the idea that words can open doors, I suppose they can close them, too. Some things reap more benefits in the manifestation of their values than in a concrete and structured explanation. They can live in the little things._

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_From my point of view, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. I suppose I can invite you to the wedding then, rendering the opening to this letter pointless. But recently I’ve been learning that a little pointlessness can be fun, sometimes._

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_Love,_

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_Rose_

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_Rose,_

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_It’s been ages since we’ve last written to each other, maybe a little less than two months. This morning the air was fresh and renewed. The walls of spring are finally closing in on themselves and ushering summer into the atmosphere.I let myself sleep in for an hour or so, and then hauled a stack of paperwork outside to shuffle through on the patio, for the weather was just too good to keep myself from. That’s when my thumb brushed against a slip of paper that seemed to stick out, irregularly thick and sitting askew. When I removed it from the heap, I came up with the envelope enclosing the first letter you ever wrote me. It was dated a year ago to this day. If you were sitting next to me right now, I’d quip something along the lines of ‘fate works in peculiar ways,’ and you’d launch into a tangent on how there’s a rational explanation for every being, every happening, every little thing._

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_The night I first met you, you asked me a question I couldn’t answer. The tavern we were crammed into the booth of casted odd, out-of-place shadows made of reds and oranges, yet your eyes still seemed to pierce mine through the dim lighting and mild inebriation clouding my vision. I would’ve called you beautiful, then, if I weren’t so uptight and nerve-wracked, because you really were. You still are. You looked at me with the most thoughtful, curating expression, and queried what I wanted to do with my future. Such a question has always been one unclear to me, and one I’ve been afraid to confront in all honesty, so I replied half-heartedly and untruthfully. A year later, I wouldn’t mind hurtling through the rest of my life devoid of any structure or consistency whatsoever, blindfolded and pulled by the hair, as long as I’m next to you._

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_I’m lovestruck. I have been since the day I traced over the fancy print of your name for the first time, living out the prospect of an intellectual girl-crush that, in hindsight, was rather lame. You’re cold, you’re calculating, you’re insufferable most times, but I’m endeared by each and every one of those traits more than I’ve ever been endeared before. The smiles you tell me you’re embarrassed of, the stories you tell of your friends and family, the long-winded prose I couldn’t help but pick up on eventually. Every little bit has led up to this very moment, my heart overflowing with that which it can’t contain a second longer._

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_When I deflected your question that night, you told me you had no idea. I have my answer now. What’s yours?_

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_I love you,_

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_Kanaya_

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Your name is Kanaya Maryam.

The first thing that you decide when you wake up the morning of the wedding is that you have got to put a stop to the oversleeping. Your eyelids flutter open gingerly, stung by the strength of the sun blaring through curtains you forgot to draw, and a couple of moments pass by in leisure before you come to the striking realization that it cannot be earlier than ten o’clock. The ceremony starts at two, and Rose told you she’d arrive at nine, rendering you undeniably and officially tardy.

You pads down the stairs with haste, hair mussed and nightgown intact, to find Rose lounging in an armchair tucked into the corner of the room. Her gaze is drawn from the window parallel to you, and she turns her head to look at you, fond as ever and not an ounce annoyed at your lateness. A carriage waits outside, parked patiently in the dirt clearing outside of the house.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, not apologetic in the slightest. Rose cradles a slip of manilla stationary, clutched close to her chest, your quick and loopy handwriting scribed onto it in neat lines.

“I read your letter,” she replies.

Rose rises, setting the paper down on the cushioned seat, walking over to you with the poise and elegance of a goddess. She loops her arms around your shoulders, lacing two manicured hands around your neck where black wisps of hair taper off. She kisses you, soft and sincere in all the ways she isn’t, never was, never will be.

“My answer is you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading follow me on twitter @riastuck for more femslash and late night homestuck rambling


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